


For the good of the patria, for the good wine, in the name of love

by Mutaforma



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Death, M/M, Revolution, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3856414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutaforma/pseuds/Mutaforma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was like the sun, and we all could do nothing but follow him. From my black corner of cynicism, he lent me his light and I kept it in my ideas, in my thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the good of the patria, for the good wine, in the name of love

Bless the spring of ‘32. The evenings of songs and the full glasses, when Enjolras used to talk. There, between bottles overflowing withmusic, with ideas. Now I know: if I hadn’t met him, I would have hadmore other springs, summers, and no one of these would have been unforgettable.  
Enjolras shone in the ideas he talked about. Brave, determined, he wasn’t scared. He had a mouth filled with words like liberté, egalité, and like those words, he was beautiful. Vivid. He was like the sun, and we all could do nothing but follow him. From my black corner of cynicism, he lent me his light and I kept it in my ideas, in my thoughts.   
Energy was strong, impossible to quell. It could have revolutionized the world, the stars, everything. For the good of the patrie, for the good wine, in the name of love.  
Once I proposed to make a toast. “To beauty”  
Yeah, the patria is the most beautiful mother, and the most respectable. But I talked looking at him. And for a moment I felt my eyes in Enjolras’ and his in mine. Then he raised the glass and drank, and the moment ended.  
I know you saw me. I know you saw it.  
Who knows what you thought about my eyes following you, about guilty torturing my lips. Who knows what you thought when it was night on the barricade and it was scary. A fear that wine can’t turn into euphoria.  
The red of our flags became the red of the blood on the street.  
Their blood.  
Our blood.

I’m afraid, but fear pulses in my head, my breathe explodes in my chest like gunshots. I would like not to be here. I’m afraid, Enjolras.  
I look for you at the barricade but I don’t see you. And my legs run like I’m running away to a safe place. Where there is wine and there is you, talking about a perfect world that doesn’t want our blood. The red flag shelters us from the sun, protects us from the night, and my fingers are in your hair.   
We can’t. 

Who knows what you are thinking about now, looking at me. There are the guns but I’m not looking at them. You are with me. Hold my hand. Nobody will know it. I swear.  
Now I die, with a ungiven kiss on my lips and a name in my heart.  
I regret nothing.


End file.
